


The Stark's High Society Orphans Club

by TheCityLightShow



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (Bruce's Dad Sucks), A Group Of Them Were Soliders, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Maria Stark, Bruce is Pan, Bruce-centric, But They're Fixing Each Other, Deaf Clint Barton, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, FTM Bruce Banner, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Howard Stark Is a Good Dad, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jan's a Lesbian, Just Backstory Angst, Kinda?, M/M, Mostly Very Fluffy, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, The Best Found Family Fic I Know How To Write, everyone loves Harry Potter, natasha is bi, they're all broken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-13 18:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13576311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCityLightShow/pseuds/TheCityLightShow
Summary: When Tony asks his extended group of friends and family to test out his latest shot at fantastical technology, not one of them expected them to havequitethe impact that it did. Sure, the StarkPhones are amazing – really Tony, you’ve outdone yourself – but they all got something a little more than that when Tony handed out the customised bricks with their StarkNet profiles.Welcome to the Stark’s High Society Orphans Club, harry potter nerdery and a basic IQ required, pretty decent parents, food, and board included.





	1. Bruce

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KiernaSerea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiernaSerea/gifts), [ishipallthings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishipallthings/gifts).



> Where to fucking start with this one... it was an accident? I wanted a small, Bruce/Bucky texting fic. It exploded. I will finish it because I have Plans for this verse. Drop me comments and kudos, and if you've got something you wanna see in this fic, drop me a line! I'm here and on Tumblr (@thecitylightshow, I'll get it), and happy to chat. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as I go along, because honestly **I** don't even know where I'm going with this.

## February 2009

 

Bruce was having… a weird day.

A really weird day.

He’d been getting ready for church, in a dress that his father still insisted on and make-up to disguise the black-eye he was still sporting and his father had yet to notice, when-

“Roberta!” His father called, and Bruce winced. “Get down here now, presentable!” Bruce considered delaying, but instead he slipped on the pumps he had to wear to church, and pulled his hair back in a bobble as he made his way down the stairs.

Maria Stark was stood at the bottom of them.

Five days previously, Bruce had happened upon Justin Hammer trying to corner some kid – Bruce didn’t like him _anyway_ , and defending the kid from getting his ass kicked was just a well-timed excuse to kick _his_ ass, and that of his friends. He’d got a black-eye and a bust lip and smattering of bruises for his trouble, but the kid – Tony, apparently, Tony Stark – had been thankful. As had his mother, the gorgeous and powerful Maria Stark, who arrived to take Tony and acted as Bruce’s guardian (even thought they’d never met, and Bruce’s face was still covered in blood) to get him out of trouble. Bruce had assumed that was the last of it, but here she was, switching between studying the house and glaring at his father.

“Ah, there you are girl,” his father noticed him only as he reached the bottom, and Bruce managed to catch his wince before his father saw it. “Ms Stark here has offered you somewhere to stay while you finish school.” He sounded reluctant, but Ms Stark was smiling kindly at Bruce, and he smiled in return.

“What’s the catch?” Bruce asked, wary as he’d been taught to be, and _something_ flickered across Ms Stark’s face, but Bruce couldn’t have told you what.

“No catch, just comfort.” She told him. “A chance to flourish – you have brains, despite your slipping grades. I’d like to see you succeed.” Bruce studied her for a moment, and her face held no trace of a lie.

“Alright.” Bruce muttered, and her face brightened.

“Wonderful,” she exclaimed, “go and get changed, and pack whatever you would like to bring with you, and I will discuss the terms with-.” She cut herself off, gesturing at his father rather than mention him.

Bruce changed into baggy jeans and one of his mother’s old shirts, and a jumper of his fathers that he’d stolen. He hesitated, tugging his hair out of the bobble, quickly grabbing a pair of scissors from his desk and halving the length of it, so that it sat matted just beyond his shoulders instead of down his back. He packed all of the more masculine clothes that he owned, abandoning the make-up and the dresses. He packed all the photos he could find, all his journals and books, and those of his mother’s he’d saved.

He didn’t have a phone to speak of, and his glasses had been smashed (thanks, dad)… he didn’t have anything else to take, other than his mother’s class ring. He slipped that on, and then sat on the suitcase so he could zip it up, pulling on the tatty boots he’d salvaged from the clothing bank and hauling the damn thing into the landing.

He could hear them talking in hushed, angry tones, though he couldn’t make out the words, and he dashed across into his father’s room, searching the wardrobe for the shoe box his mother had hidden to come back for, the memories his father had tried to take from her, and nearly let out a cry when he found it, untouched. He snuck back out and into the bathroom then, adding the few toiletries he possessed to the top of it, disguising what lay underneath. The box went into his empty rucksack, and he retrieved his jacket with the headphones and mp3 player hidden in the lining, and stuffed that in too, slinging it onto his shoulder and making his way downstairs.

His father made to say something about his hair, but Ms Stark silenced him with a glare, and then turned a smile on Bruce. “Is that everything?” she asked, and Bruce nodded. “Wonderful, shall we go?” she asked, and Bruce nodded again, the entire idea that he finally got to leave seeming entirely surreal.

She led the way out, and Bruce followed hastily, ignoring his father as best he could. The door slammed behind them, and Bruce winced, glancing back, but his father had stayed inside. They loaded the trunk into the back of the car, and Ms Stark opened the passenger side door for him, before climbing into the driver’s side.

Bruce took one last look at the house, and got in.

 

+

 

## August 2017

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 01:16_

_Is Tony staying overnight at yours?_

 

Bruce tapped out the text and sent it without putting his glasses on, hoping Tony’s autocorrect would rescue it from being unreadable. Tony _was_ technically Rhodey’s roommate, when he was doing classes for his _second fucking doctorate_ , but he was Bruce’s brother, and had a tendency to just let himself in late at night and crash on his couch. Bruce lived closer to the airport, albeit not by much, and Tony had a flight tomorrow morning back to New York.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 01:18_

_hate to break it to u buddy, but I think u clicked the wrong contact x_

 

Bruce swore loudly, and knocked one of his cats, Hulk, off the pillow next to him as he sat up to reach for his glasses. He hastily put them on, sitting up to stare at his phone and get the right contact this time.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 01:20_

_Shit, sorry. Hope I didn’t wake you._

_[Text: RadiationNation to WarMachineROX] 01:20_

_Is Tony at yours?_

_[Text: WarMachineROX to RadiationNation] 01:21_

_No, he caught a flight @ 11, there’s been a fuck-up in R &D. _

 

Bruce groaned, and hoped to god it was nothing major – Tony put his heart and soul into that department, but he could only be there so much of the time. Howard and his staff did their best to pick up the slack, but Tony was just that bit ahead of the times that it was easy for them to fall short.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WarMachineROX] 01:22_

_Fuck, I’ll text him. Night Rhodey._

_[Text: RadiationNation to YouKnowWhoIAm] 01:22_

_Let me know if you need help on damage control. Give my love to mama, and don’t kill the board members._

 

Bruce put his phone down after he’d texted Tony. He was unlikely to get a reply until morning – Tony had a weird thing about texting after midnight that even after eight years Bruce didn’t get, but respected. He sighed and rolled over, only expecting one beep to come through, which came through just as Hulk was leaping back onto the bed. He was starting to drift back off, now he knew that Tony wasn’t going to let himself in and scare the hell out of him, when there was a second beep.

 

_[Text: WarMachineROX to RadiationNation] 01:23_

_Night Bruce_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 01:27_

_dw about it x_

 

Bruce blinked at the reply, but didn’t bother to do little more than exit out of the texting app, roll over, and go back to sleep.

 

+

 

Bruce wanted to bang his head against the desk when the text came through. A fire alarm in his apartment building had woken him up at five, and he’d given up once they were let back into the building an hour later and just showered. Now he was sat in the back of a seminar and trying his best not to fall asleep. There was a small buzz from his pocket – Bruce was thankful he’d managed to turn the sound off – and he pulled the purple monstrosity carefully from his pocket.

 

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to RadiationNation] 09:12_

_No promises :*_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to RadiationNation] 09:12_

_Ngh, these bastards are boring as fuck._

_[Text: RadiationNation to YouKnowWhoIAm] 09:14_

_I told you. No. Murder. Text you later, in the seminar I was correcting last year._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to RadiationNation] 09:15_

_> :P you’re a killjoy Bright. Hope they get it right this time._

 

He tucked the phone back into his pocket, feeling a little happier that Tony had made it to the shareholders meeting and (presumably) the board meeting, as well as the R&D meeting he’d originally been travelling for. The seminar was the same as one he’d attended last year and ended up correcting in places – this year it was more relevant to him, a necessary refresher for his doctorate, and he really wanted to pay attention.

Bruce blinked himself to attention and realised he’d missed a sentence with a sigh.

He wondered if his fancy new StarkPhone would have a way to record the damn thing so he could listen to it later.

 

+

 

_[Text: BusyBee to RadiationNation] 11:19_

_Hi!!! I’m Jan!!! Who’re you RNation???!!_

 

Bruce laughed at the message – it was so like Jan to waste no time having a StarkPhone and use it to network.

Janet Van Dyne was the middle child between Bruce and Tony, and she’d bridged that gap masterfully in those early days as easy as breathing (though Jan had an impressive skill of making _everything_ look as easy as breathing). She could have been a scientist in her own right, but she made her professional career as a fashion designer, up and coming in several prestigious communities – really, Bruce had been stabbed too many times with pins for her to _not_. She was as much his sister as Tony was his brother, in everything but blood, and they did all their talking (usually) in a group chat of the three of them – but since Bruce’s phone had died in July and Tony had told him to not bother with a new one if he could wait until two days ago, they hadn’t spoken since, the situation exacerbated by Jan being in the process of packing up her LA apartment to move back to Boston with the rest of them. She was moving in with Natasha, a ballet teacher that Bruce was still smug as fuck for setting her up with.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to BusyBee] 11:20_

_It’s Bruce, Jaunty. Y’know, the boring scientist you and Tony decide to adopt?_

_[Text: BusyBee to RadiationNation] 11:20_

_BRUCIE! You make it sound like you’re a stray cat!! Omg, we need a new group chat!! And Tasha loves you so you gotta come over my cutie now I’m all moved in! I have this new lilac and grey suit you’d suit SO WELL!!_

 

Bruce blinked hard, and then grinned. Natasha was not the most openly affectionate person – he _knew_ that she liked him, even if he was sometimes unsure of to what degree, and to hear it said so forthright was nice. He glanced up from his phone before he replied, having got to the counter in his favourite coffee shop. The barista was the same one it always was on a Wednesday morning (not that Bruce did that on purpose every Wednesday, and Saturday, and Monday and Tuesday), and he smiled brightly when Bruce stepped up.

“Hey scientist,” he greeted, grey eyes alight, and the nickname totally did not make Bruce grin back automatically, not one bit. (He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince). “The usual?”

“Please.” Bruce really wasn’t sure the coffee from here would wake him up as much as it did if it was served by any other barista. He grinned and flickered his fallen fringe out of his face, and set to work on Bruce’s drink.

 

_[Text: BusyBee to RadiationNation] 11:21_

_Brucie Brucie Bright, you should come to dinner at mine and Tasha’s this Friday!! Please please please?? :D :D_

_[Text: BusyBee to RadiationNation] 11:26_

_Bruuuuuciiiiie, brother, red shirt, Obi Wan whoever the fuck you are!!_

_[Text: RadiationNation to BusyBee] 11:27_

_Sorry sorry, just getting coffee. You know I’d love to see both._

_[Text: BusyBee to RadiationNation] 11:27_

_!!!!!!!!!!!! :D :D :D <3_

 

Bruce grinned when the reply came through, and then raised an eyebrow as Jocosta – the assistant Tony was building to help on the phones “like Cortana or Siri, but 100 times better” – offered to add **Dinner with BusyBee** to his Friday calendar.

“Good text?” The barista, James, asked, handing over Bruce’s drink with his metal hand – one of the most advanced prosthetics Bruce had ever seen, he _really_ must make a note to bring Tony here to see it one day – and Bruce nodded, clicking yes to Jocosta.

“I’ve got a dinner date with my sister and her girlfriend.” Bruce told him, and James smiled. “$4.00?” Bruce asked, and James waved him off.

“On the house, scientist.”

“I- I couldn’t possibly-“ Bruce protested, even in the face of that wonderful grin, and he felt his phone buzz again.

“Just take the coffee, cutie.” James told him, and Bruce smiled, hoping his cheeks weren’t going red at the endearment.

“If you insist, James.” James smiled, his cheeks dusted slightly pink in beautiful way, and Bruce wished he were a more confident person. “Thank you.”

“See you Saturday!” James waved him off with that same bright smile, and turned to serve the next customer. The lady next in the queue gave Bruce an almost pitying smile, and Bruce stared back down at his phone as he made his way past the queue to get out of the shop, clutching his coffee closer.

 

_[Text: BusyBee to RadiationNation] 11:28_

_I’M SO EXCITED!!!! What time? What d’you wanna eat? Ohhhh, should I do Thai food?! I make the best thai food!! :D_

_[Text: RadiationNation to BusyBee] 11:32_

_What time is best for you two? And you know I fucking love your thai, Jan, don’t tease me._

_[Text: BusyBee to RadiationNation] 11:33_

_Thai it is!! Come by for 6??? You know where we live right??_

 

Jocosta gave him a little notification to amend the event **Dinner with BusyBee** to the time 6pm, and Bruce grinned, clicking yes. “Outdone yourself Tony…” he murmured.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to BusyBee] 11:35_

_I do. I’ll see you at 6, Jan xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to RedBalletShoes] 11:35_

_Do I need to bring anything for dinner? Fuck knows my sister will never tell me… she still likes flowers right?_

_[Text: BusyBee to RadiationNation] 11:37_

_I can’t wait!!!!_

_[Text: RedBalletShoes to RadiationNation] 11:37_

_You’re sweet, Banner. :D Yes, she loves flowers still… don’t worry about bringing anything else. :) :) :)_

_[Text: RadiationNation to RedBalletShoes] 11:38_

_Ugh, you’re such a dick, the pair of you. Flowers, right. You’ve not redecorated, have you? Jan’d kill me if they clashed._

_[Text: RedBalletShoes to RadiationNation] 11:38_

_:D :D you’ll be fine Banner O:)_

_[Text: RadiationNation to RedBalletShoes] 11:39_

_Some help you are…_

 

Bruce shoved his phone in his pocket then as he reached his apartment building – he had an hour now, to swap over his textbooks, grab his notes from the summer to test in the lab, and eat something, before he had to be back on campus. His phone buzzed as he was taking leftovers out of the fridge to reheat, and he nearly tripped over Hulk as he turned to reach for his jacket and retrieve it.

“Oh, _Hulk_.” Bruce sighed, as the massive squashed-face fluffball slunk out of sight, passing by the tiny black cat, Nova, Bruce had rescued. He put his take-out on the table and searched his coat for the purple phone, pulling it out to see that he had a message.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:04_

_riddle me this, radiation; star wars or star trek? we’re havin an argument xx_

 

Bruce blinked, hard. Other than obviously being a friend of Tony’s, Bruce had no idea who _WinterCyborg_ was, and beyond the acceptance of his apology, Bruce hadn’t expected to hear from him again. Still, however… he put his take-out onto a plate and put it in the microwave to reheat before he picked the phone back up.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 12:06_

_Star Trek, obviously. All Star Wars has going for it is cute droids and lightsabers x_

 

He hesitated over adding the kiss – it just wasn’t something he did, but then again no one ever sent him one, except Maria – but the microwave dinged and he sent it without removing it. The left over fried rice was still pretty tasty, and he sat down at his kitchen table to tuck in. Hulk came back at the smell of food, and Bruce picked out a couple of bits of chicken for him to eat, flicking one over to Nova that she sniffed and pretended to ignore for a moment before scarfing it down.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:08_

_fuckin THANK YOU. trek all the way man! xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:08_

_I’d love to b a starfleet officer, wouldn’t u? xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 12:10_

_Honestly, hell yes. Give me a blue shirt any day... x_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:11_

_u science or medical?? give me engineering any day ;P x_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 12:12_

_Science – you’re going to risk being a red shirt? x_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:13_

_livin life on the edge baby x_

 

Bruce actually laughed aloud at that, grinning at his phone. Hulk nudged his hand, so he put down his fork to scratch the fluffy menace behind the ears while he replied.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 12:14_

_Don’t you mean living life on the frontier? x_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:15_

_hahaha, yh, guess I do :) x_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:15_

_I’d still kill 4 a lightsaber tho x_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 12:16_

_The ability to use the force WOULD make my life a lot easier... x_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:17_

_preach it blue shirt. a red lightsaber... or maybe blue? Idk, what would u have? x_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 12:18_

_Oh hush red shirt. I’d have a purple one. Best colour ever. x_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:19_

_gasp, how could you betray blue like that?! x_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:19_

_g2g, breaks over. chat to u later? :D x_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 12:20_

_Sure x_

Bruce stared at his phone for a moment longer, but it seemed that _WinterCyborg_ had immediately gone back to work. He shoved Hulk away, and finished off his lunch.

 

+

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to CarbonellGenius] 18:25_

_Would this happen to be Ms Maria Carbonell?_

_[Text: CarbonellGenius to RadiationNation] 18:30_

_This is she, and who would my delightful Antonio nickname RadiationNation?_

_[Text: RadiationNation to CarbonellGenius] 18:31_

_That would be Bruce, Mama._

 

Bruce sent the text with a smile and put his phone down next to his laptop.

His brain was fried.

It was one of those days that made him feel homesick.

He’d been dealing with other scientists all afternoon, engineering undergrads who weren’t helpful in the slightest. Give it a month, and Rhodey would be free to help him, but until then he was stuck with people who really didn’t have the understanding required to help him with his second doctorate project. The project would get Rhodey his doctorate, if he chose to partake in its defence, but at the moment all it was going to do was give Bruce a headache.

No sooner had his laptop finished starting up when his phone rang – huh, apparently his ringtone was the chorus of Cha-Ching by Imagine Dragons, not bad – and Bruce answered it, happily noting the _CarbonellGenius_ username on the screen.

“Good evening, Mama.” He greeted, leaning back on his chair and reaching out to stroke Nova when she leapt up onto his lap.

“Bruce!" Maria’s Italian accent seemed more pronounced over the phone, “it is so good to hear from you, tesoro!” Bruce laughed softly.

“It’s lovely to hear from you too,” Bruce replied, glancing up at the picture he kept hung above his desk. “How are you?”

“I am very well, and how’s my favourite nuclear physicist?”

“I’m your _only_ nuclear physicist.” Bruce joked, but like hers, his tone was only fond. Maria Stark had unofficially adopted him during his junior year of high school, after he stopped someone from beating the shit out of Tony. He’d been awful to her – to all of them – at a lot of moments in that first year, but Maria had taken everything he’d had to throw at her, sometimes even literally. Eight years on in her loving care, Bruce was a very different man to the troubled trans kid she’d taken in and nurtured – and Bruce liked to think he was a good son. She and Howard had gone on to officially adopt him after his father’s untimely death nearly landed him in the system just before his seventeenth birthday, after all. The Stark’s had a lot of waifs and strays, but only Bruce and Jan had been legally adopted so far.

“Eh, semantics.” She told him, and he could imagine her waving off the comment in the same way Tony did.

“I’m good, Mama.” _Lonely_ , he wanted to confess, but knew to say it would only make her worry about him. “The university’s idea of temporary help is laughable, though.” Maria’s soft laugh filtered down the line.

“You sound like your brother.” She chided.

“Speaking of, what was the fuck up in R&D and did he murder the person responsible?” he asked, spinning lazily on his chair, Maria sighed.

“Something to do with the new branch being delayed because someone managed to get a virus onto the systems… it was certainly a close thing, but I’ll admit, he kept his cool spectacularly. He’ll make a good CEO. Even better if…”

“If what?” Bruce asked, wary. Maria simply hummed.

“Still, the stress will get to him eventually. I should make him take up yoga too…” she mused. Bruce made the quick decision to let the subject change lie, knowing that someone would explain it to him at the proper moment. 

“We tried, remember? He lost his girlfriend to me and yoga, which is a lie fabricated to besmirch my reputation, because he lost her to Jan.”

“Our Pepper and he were never going to work, and everyone knew it… he and darling Steven, however.” Bruce could just imagine her grin. “They’ll do just fine.”

“That they will, Mama.” He paused, “it’s kinda gross.” Maria laughed, and the she cut herself off with an exclamation like-

“I just remembered! Howie’s joining in on the bet.” She declared proudly. Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Is he really?”

“Hm-hmm.” Maria confirmed, “very specifically too – that Tasha dear will propose between 8 and 9 in the celebration for the StarkWizard victors, providing Gryffindor win.” Bruce whistled low.

“Papa’s probably not wrong though,” Bruce murmured – his bet was on Jan proposing Christmas Morning before they all came downstairs.

“Speaking of Antonio and Janet and their loves,” Bruce groaned, and amusement filtered into Maria’s tone, “is there anyone special in your life?” Bruce sighed, and banished all thoughts of James the Cute Barista – he was never going to have the guts for that.

“No, Mama.” Bruce replied tiredly. “No, there is not.”

“But Bruce, you’re a charming young man!” Maria exclaimed, with no small amount of teasing.

“Mama, I’m an asshole. I just happen to hide it well.” Maria laughed. “I’m okay, Mama.” Bruce insisted.

“I know you are, Bruce, but after Betty left, and things didn’t work out with that cousin of Thor’s… you’ve never been quite as happy.” Bruce sighed, and ran a hand over his face. “I know, I know you don’t like to talk about it, heartbreak is never a thing to dwell on, but… please, for me Brucie.” Maria swallowed audibly. “Be open to it? You deserve happiness.”

“Okay.” His voice cracked a little, and he cleared his throat. Hulk jumped up onto his laptop, and reached down to bat Nova gently. “I will.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. There were a few moments of lingering silence, and then the moment was broken. “Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?” she asked.

“Mama, it’s August! I don’t even know what I’m doing next month, let alone November.”

“Just tell Jocosta! I don’t want you stuck in Boston for the holidays. None of you.”

“Thanksgiving is different, Mama. You know I’d never miss Christmas and StarkWizard– none of us would.”

“That’s my boy-“ she was interrupted by someone on her end, though Bruce couldn’t make out the voice, initially. She rambled back in fluent Italian and then-

“Bruce! How’s Boston, son?” Howard’s voice joined Maria’s, and she was laughing softly – Bruce was constantly amazed by the strength of their marriage. He knew it hadn’t always been like that, but now, Bruce thought (and Tony and Jan agreed) that you’d be hard-pressed to find a couple that loved each other more so far into their marriage.

“It’s good, Dad. Nice weather.” Bruce replied, smiling to himself.

“We have to go tesoro, that’s Edwin calling us for dinner. He says hello.”

“Hello right back at him.” Bruce smiled. “Nice to hear you, Dad.”

“You too, kid.”

“Love you bambino. Speak to you next week?” Maria asked.

“Next week,” Bruce confirmed. “Love you too.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The views expressed in this chapter are not the views of the author. (As in; I'm not transphobic, but more importantly, I love Star Wars beyond droids and lightsabers. Bruce is a blasphemer even if Star Trek is better.)


	2. Bucky

## April 2015

 

“I know you’re awake.” Sam’s voice sounded oddly hollow. “It’s just us.”

Bucky opened his eyes. Sam was perched on the edge of his bed, in the gap where his arm should be. He had his head in his hands, and he was breathing heavily. “I-“ Bucky started, and found his throat incredibly dry. Sam didn’t look, but his breathing calmed a little. Bucky licked his lips and tried again. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“It was like I was up there just to watch him fall.” Sam whispered, and Bucky felt his chest clench. “I- this was a total clusterfuck.”

“Wasn’t it just?” Bucky agreed, and he groaned, but made to sit up. Sam looked up in alarm at the sudden movement, but made no move to steady him, for which Bucky was oddly grateful. He rotated his shoulders, ignoring the pain in his left before the sudden stop as he did. “So what do we do now?”

“I was here to ask you that, Cap.” Sam admitted, but a hint of a smile played around his lips. Bucky wanted to protest that he was hardly a captain anymore, and how he certainly didn’t deserve it, but the smile was hard to dispel from Sam’s face after everything. Bucky thought for a long moment.

“We should stick together.” Bucky said eventually. “I- I can’t go to Steve.” He admitted, and Sam nodded slowly.

“Shockingly, I got that. What with you feigning sleep every time he comes to see you.” Bucky felt a pang of guilt at that. “You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, Cap. Your brother’s worried about you.”

“I know… but I’m not sure how much of his brother is left.” Bucky whispered.

“We’ll make it. You and me, we’ll get an apartment in Boston. Lump Clint on your brother to keep him close but with someone who can teach him to sign, and we’ll get better.”

“Can I? I lost an _arm_ Sam. As much as I didn’t sign up for my own goals, I didn’t exactly expect there to be anything _after_.” Bucky snapped.

There was a long, long stretch of silence.

Bucky looked away, uncomfortable.

“I did.” Sam said after a long moment. “I was gonna marry Riley, Barnes. Get a dog. Raise a kid. Teach. He wanted to work on his photography. We had a deposit for a house saved. Ideas. Plans. And now _I’m_ here, with all these- impossible dreams and a funeral to plan. I have to look his brother, his _mother_ in the eye, and tell them that I lost their son. So you’re _damn well_ going to get better Cap, because I can’t do this on my own, and you’re all I’ve got left.” Bucky couldn’t help but gape at him after that outburst. He swallowed hard.

“Alright. Okay…” He murmured, and had to check himself to raise his right hand to scrub at his face. “America and Kate left already?” he asked, and Sam nodded.

“Kate’s parents in Ohio. Outskirts. Good place. They’ve promised to visit when… when we’re all…”

“Yeah.” Bucky finished for him. “Where’s Clint?”

“Sulking, understandably.” Sam slipped into his role as Bucky’s second-in-command easily. “But he’s not leaving without us, he’s already made that choice. Steve’s friend Stark has been poking around, fixed him up with some decent tech.” Sam caught Bucky’s eye then, meaningfully. “No one will let him into see you until you’ve spoken to someone.” Bucky nodded slowly.

“Right. Fuck.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Stay? While I talk to Stevie.” He elaborated. Sam nodded.

“Sure thing, Cap.”

 

+

 

## August 2017

 

Bucky froze when his favourite customer walked in – one day the sight of the adorable scientist wouldn’t make his heart skip a beat, but honestly Bucky hoped that day never came. He was smiling at his phone today, and somehow, it’d never occurred to him that Scientist must have one. Bucky served the people in front of him with his usual plastic smile, but he knew he must look like a dork when scientist looked up to smile at him.

“Hey scientist,” he greeted, “the usual?”

He received a grin and a “Please” in return, and Bucky _loved_ that smile. It was all that helped him to get out of bed four days a week, those four days where scientist came into the coffee shop on his shift. His second job was a necessity, and between the two of them and night classes and PT and counselling… he was always exhausted, but for those few minutes where scientist was there, with his ruffled-up hair and big circular glasses, he felt alert and awake in a way he hadn’t since before the army. He flicked his fringe out of his face – he shouldn’t have let Steve persuade him to get his hair cut – and set to work making his white chocolate macchiato.

He glanced up when scientist laughed quietly at his- _StarkPhone_. The thing was a purple brick, but there was no mistaking it. That was one of Tony’s prototypes – _Bucky had scientist’s number_. “Good text?” he asked, handing over the drink with his prosthetic hand, not trusting his real hand not to shake.

“I’ve got a dinner date with my sister and her girlfriend.” Scientist told him, and Bucky was stupidly relieved. “$4.00?” he asked, and suddenly stupidly happily, Bucky waved him off. 

“On the house, scientist.” Bucky told him, and scientist ignored his phone buzzing to protest.

“I- I couldn’t possibly-“

“Just take the coffee, cutie.” Bucky interrupted him, and received a beautifully bright smile in return.

“If you insist, James.” Scientist accepted the drink – his fingers brushed against Bucky’s, but he couldn’t quite feel it, he’d have to let Tony know – and smiled.

“See you Saturday!” Bucky called after him, waving, and then turned to serve the next customer in the line – he had half an hour until his lunch break. Half an hour… god, his hand was shaking.

 

+

 

Bucky nearly dropped his coat in the back room, searching the pockets for the navy-blue phone Tony had asked him to be a part of testing at their last appointment. The blue StarkPhone was wonderfully configured to him having to use his non-dominant hand, and Jocosta was proving extremely helpful in keeping track of his shifts and his appointments and his classes.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to YouKnowWhoIAm] 12:00_

_who did u give the purple phone to??!!_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to WinterCyborg] 12:00_

_Why? Something I should know about your intentions?_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to YouKnowWhoIAm] 12:02_

_please, Tony. he was in the coffee shop._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to WinterCyborg] 12:02_

_Oh! Oh, my god. It’s RadiationNation. Do NOT fuck this up._

Bucky stared at it for a moment, before pulling up _RadiationNation_ in a chat. He pondered for a moment before remembering scientist’s Star Fleet pin and the Star Wars wallet.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 12:04_

_riddle me this, radiation; star wars or star trek? we’re havin an argument xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to YouKnowWhoIAm] 12:05_

_I don’t even know what ur talking about, but I won’t._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to WinterCyborg] 12:05_

_That’s my brother, Barnes._

 

Bucky gaped at his phone, almost missing the buzz from _RadiationNation’s_ reply. Since when did Tony have a brother? Had he missed that? God, he hoped it was an older brother… it had to be, scientist had to be close to Bucky’s age. God, Tony had a _brother_.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to YouKnowWhoIAm] 12:06_

_I didn’t even know u had a brother._

 

+

 

Bucky hauled his jacket back on and took a breath before stepping out into the busy street. New York was home, and Boston was great – how he’d got into MIT he still didn’t know – but he should’ve taken some time away from city life when he came back. Crowds made him nervous and the subway made his heart race – he hated getting in vehicles altogether, now, and sudden loud noises... he was getting better, but today the city grated on him.

 

_[Text: StarSpangled to WinterCyborg] 15:03_

_We need to Skype tomorrow, if you can?_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to StarSpangled] 15:06_

_what did I do wrong now?_

_[Text: StarSpangled to WinterCyborg] 15:08_

_Buck..._

_[Text: StarSpangled to WinterCyborg] 15:08_

_I’m visiting Tony, cuz I’m in NY for the exhibit while I have a long weekend. He wanted to chat about the arm before your appointment next week._

 

Bucky swore under his breath, and pressed his palm against his forehead. He’d been in such a good mood earlier, discovering he could chat to Cute Scientist, but the dread that always came before counselling was seeping in. Don’t get him wrong, between Sam dragging him to sessions at the VA and Maria Hill being exactly the right psychiatrist to not take any of his bullshit, he was making progress; but progress was draining. It was ripping open wounds and often rubbing salt on them before he was allowed to bandage them up for another week.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to StarSpangled] 15:11_

_I’m srry. yeah we can skype, punk._

_[Text: StarSpangled to WinterCyborg] 15:13_

_Don’t worry about jerk, just breathe deep and don’t scar some poor lady with your murder stare on the tube ;D talk to you tomorrow, okay Buck?_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to StarSpangled] 15:14_

_sure sure_

+

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 20:47_

_srry this is late, got held up @ night classes x_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 20:47_

_so tell me about urself, scientist xx_

 

Bucky sent the messages as he walked into the apartment he shared with Sam, and flopped down onto the couch as he waited for a reply. It’d been a gamble, for sure, but knowing that he _could_ text scientist was enough to get him through the horrific lecture he’d just had to sit through, on top of a particularly gruelling counselling session. He was exhausted, but he didn’t think later translated to tomorrow.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 20:48_

_There’s not much to tell, if I’m honest x_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 20:50_

_that’s a lie if I ever heard one xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 20:51_

_I try not to lie if I can help it. I’m… just me. Just Bruce. xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 20:53_

_Bruce… already, something to like about u. I’m James. xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 20:54_

_Well, what would you like to know, James? xx_

 

Bucky hesitated, typing ‘everything’ and then instantly deleting it again. He did, and maybe that was obvious, but you don’t just _say it_.

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 20:56_

_u like science right, Brucie blue shirt? what kinda science? xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 20:57_

_Nuclear physics, originally... I’m currently part of a project at MIT to help speed up diagnosis etc. What about you, red shirt? xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 20:59_

_u mean like a tricorder?? that’s really cool!! I’m a dabbler – I can speak Russian and French, but I’m doing engineering at MIT atm. was a soldier xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 21:02_

_Wish we could make it as small as a tricorder, but first priority is to make it functional... you’re a sophisticated red shirt! Is soldiering a topic I should avoid? xx_

 

Bucky smiled at his phone. Bruce was sweet – most people either immediately praised him for serving their country, or called him a murderer. He considered mentioning that, but then that might lead to a discussion. But to be considered as a person, instead of ‘just another soldier’ was nice.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 21:04_

_avoid 4 now? I’m still a bit of a mess. lost an arm. Tony’s been a great help tho, and I like to think I’m moving on with my life. xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 21:04_

_u doing a masters then? xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 21:06_

_Good for you, James! Proud of you. I’m actually on my second doctorate, with this project. xx_

 

Bucky had to put his phone down for a moment then. Proud. That wasn’t something he heard often... Steve had said it, but Steve was a biased, melodramatic asshole who was proud of him just for putting socks on, most days. Sam said it, but he usually said it with a great deal of sarcasm. Bruce just... said it.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 21:09_

_thank u, that means a lot. n second doctorate?! damn Bruce, that’s amazing! unless ur like 40 ;) xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 21:11_

_Fuck you, James, I’m nearly 26! Ha, you should meet my brother... 22 and on ~his~ second. He’ll over take me out of sheer competitiveness xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 21:12_

_that sounds like Tony... 26 huh? I got some catching up to do in a year... xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 21:15_

_You’ve already done a lot, by the sounds of it. More than enough xx_

Bucky read that back several times, oddly touched and unsure of how to reply. He was distracted by a clatter as Sam came in the door, battling with his keys, rucksack, briefcase and a bag of takeout. Bucky rolled so he was flopped on his back.

“Hey cyborg,” Sam greeted, and Bucky felt the last of the tension drain out of his shoulders. Sam didn’t tiptoe around it. “Survive another day?”

“Mostly. What about you, asshole?” he asked – but missed Sam’s reply when his phone buzzed again.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 21:20_

_You want to know something about me? I like flowers. Tony mocks me for it, despite the bunches he gets from his boyfriend, but I love them. A little bit of colour, y’know? Xx_

 

“Who are you tapping away to?” Sam asked, pulling tubs out of the bag he’d brought.

“Friend.” Bucky answered without looking up from his reply. “D’you get me egg foo yung?”

“I love you man, but you got no friends.” Sam was only teasing, but Bucky felt a slight pang at that – he’d once been the life and soul of any friendship group, but now he was like a shadow, and could count the people he’d consider seeking out for company on one hand.

“Well that depends on if you got my food.”

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 21:24_

_like a breath of fresh air? I used to buy mine and Stevie’s ma flowers... haven’t done that in a while xx_

 

“I got your damn food.” Sam sighed, bringing over two tubs and forks. “Shift yo ass, Barnes.” Bucky merely lifted his legs, and Sam made sure to jostle him as he sat down on their battered couch, but didn’t protest at Bucky’s legs lying in his lap. “So?” he asked.

“So what?”

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 21:26_

_Exactly! And now I feel like I should send my Mama some flowers... damn. Do you think I can do that online? Xx_

 

Bucky grinned, and then dug his heel into Sam’s leg when he flicked him. “Your friend, jackass.”

“Just a wrong number.” Bucky settled on.

“You’re texting an awful lot for a wrong number.”

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 21:28_

_definitely. if not, make Tony do it, that kid can cook up anything. :P xx_

 

“That’s ‘cause the wrong number was yesterday. We’re jus’ still talking.” Silence met his reply, and Bucky shifted his phone aside so he could see Sam and the judgemental eyebrow he raised. “What?”

“No one keeps talking after a wrong number.”

“Maybe not _boring_ people...” Bucky replied, and after a moment Sam finally shoved his legs to the floor.

“Eat.” He instructed, and Bucky grumbled but sat up so he could.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 21:31_

_Done! He can, but he doesn’t have to. I love the internet. Mama gets a bunch of her favourite lilies delivered at 3pm... Tony – 0, Bruce – 1. Xx_

 

Bucky laughed aloud at that, and ignored the sidelong glance Sam shot him.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 21:32_

_and u call him competitive xx_

 

 

 

 


	3. Bruce

## February 2009

 

“So, what should I call you?” Ms Stark asked, glancing at him side-long. Bruce stopped staring out of the window to stare at her.

“Excuse me?” Bruce asked, hating how his voice sounded, all high-and-mighty-offended teenage girl.

“Your name, tesoro.” Maria prompted, and Bruce was surprised to hear an Italian accent seeping through. “Roberta is hardly a fitting name for a young man.”

“What the fuck.” Bruce exclaimed before he could stop himself. Maria turned as they stopped at the traffic lights to smile at him.

“I know a young man when I see one… even a troubled genius one.” Bruce just stared at her a moment, and a horn behind them startled them both, and Maria turned back to pull away from the intersection.

“I- I don’t-“ Bruce swallowed, hard. “Bruce. I- Bruce.”

“Bruce…” Maria mused. “It suits you, my boy.” Bruce squirmed under her glances – they could only be described as fond, despite all she knew of him being a total of two hours of time and far more blood that a lady of her grace should see. It made him feel warm and squirmy inside, and he averted his gaze. “Now, I took the liberty of ordering you some new clothes I suspect will fit, along with various other items… would you like a haircut, Bruce?” she asked. Bruce nodded absently – despite the impromptu haircut, it was knotted to high-hell, curly and- well, unkempt. He didn’t brush it, didn’t touch it, hoping it’d get to a point where his father cut it in frustration. His jeans were too baggy and his jumper one of his father’s that he’d stolen. The idea that he could be- himself, was just… weird.

“I-“ he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, “I need glasses, Ms Stark.” She turned then, eyes narrowed.

“Tell me we simply forgot to pick them up.” She murmured and Bruce shook his head. He was startled then by the long- _loud-_ string of Italian curses Maria let out. She breathed deeply for a moment once she’d finished, and then smiled at him again, pulling through the gates into her home. “Well, I’ll have an appointment for you tomorrow, shall I? We’ll get you some nice rectangular frames, accent your jawline.”

 

+

 

Maria was showing Bruce to his room when they bumped into Tony – the thirteen-year-old genius stuck his head out of his room, bleary-eyed and bed-headed; it was 9 am on a Sunday, after all. “Ah, mio piccolo Antonio!” She exclaimed, and Tony smiled at her before he noticed Bruce, who suddenly wanted oh-so desperately to hide. “This is Bruce, your new brother,” Maria told him, “be nice.” Tony glanced him up and down, and made a small _oh_ face.

“How’d you like Star Wars?” he asked after a small awkward silence.

“Prefer Star Trek.” Bruce mumbled, and then was surprised when Tony grinned.

“Oh, thank god, we’re going to be fine.” He squinted then, “Mama, do I need to grab the lenses from my lab?” he asked, and Maria nodded, though neither took their gaze off Bruce – they had the same warm brown eyes, and though the media always proclaimed how much he looked like his father, in that moment Tony Stark had an extraordinary amount of his mother in him. “Cool. Star Trek, family room, 7pm, Brucie, be there.” And then he was slamming his door shut, Maria’s tsk lost under the sound.

Three doors further down, Maria stopped, and gestured. “This room is going to be yours. We’ll go shopping next weekend for how you’d like to decorate.”

“I- Ms Stark, I can’t- I won’t-“ _I won’t accept your charity_ he wanted to say, but something was almost warning in Maria’s gaze and he stopped talking. She smiled at him warmly.

“At least call me Maria, but you’re welcome to call me Mama.” She told him. “Now go get changed my boy, and then four rooms down on the right,” she gestured back down the corridor, “we’ll get you that haircut.”

Bruce stepped into the room not knowing what to expect – but a moderate sized room that was sparsely furnished wasn’t it. He was thankful, though, the pile of clothing on the bed already seemed like too much. He couldn’t have stood it if the room was lavish like the rest of the mansion seemed. There was a door in the back corner of the room by the window, that Bruce suspected was going to lead to an en suite bathroom, but he didn’t want to discover that until he was ready to face himself in the mirror. He shuffled about the clothes on the bed – skinny black men’s jeans that were going to fit him pretty well, and some baggy grey button up shirts. He wanted to panic a little – they were all shirts and tees, how was he going to layer up and hide if there were no jump- _binder_. Bruce dropped the black item in shock. There were several of them, each in different sizes – and Bruce had done his research, all in cleared history searches, he _knew_ what size would fit him and- there it was. Holy shit. Holy motherfucking shit.

It was with shaking hands that Bruce stripped off his stolen and borrowed clothing, and dressed in what Maria had said was his. The skinny jeans were wonderful, and fluffy warm socks were the most comfort he’d had in years – but to look down, and see himself flat-chested under the black tee? The relief was heady, that Bruce had to sit down on the floor. He sat cross-legged on the floor, trying not to laugh hysterically. He was flat-chested. _Flat-chested_.

He still pulled on a shirt over the top – found a deep green one, just a little colour, for the first time in- in- since his mother had died. He pulled himself up with dignity – no deep breathing, but lord it was no choice to be made – and wandered out of _his_ room curiously. He swept his hair out of his face, and counted the doors back down.

He didn’t know if he should knock, or just wait outside until- “oh fuck!” he exclaimed, stumbling back as Maria opened the door.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, laughing softly, and then she _looked_ at him. “Oh Bruce, you look wonderful!” she grinned, and Bruce got that weird warm feeling again, but this time he smiled in return. “Come, come come come, we will cut your hair!” She ushered him into what appeared to be her bedroom, straight through into a bathroom that was as large as Bruce’s new room. She’d set up a stool there, with all the scissors and combs a hairdresser might need. She gestured, and Bruce nervously took a seat on the stool, facing the mirror when Maria twirled her finger.

He looked a disgrace. His hair was still past his shoulders, knotted and matted and greasy. Maria hummed in thought, catching a lock of it and twisting it around her finger. “What- what are you thinking?” Bruce asked, hushed, and Maria blinked, looking up at him.

“I think you’d suit slightly longer hair than my Tonio.” She told him, “let it still curl a little… if you like, I can cut the longest parts off for now, and you can use my shower to wash it, and then we’ll trim and style it, hm?”

It took Bruce a moment to realise she was asking a question instead of giving an instruction. “I- I would like that. Thank you, Ms- Maria.” She smiled – and it seemed a little off, but then she was leaning around him to retrieve a pair of scissors.

 

+

 

## August 2017

 

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to RadiationNation] 15:13_

_You total suck-up. Now how am I meant to make her think I’m the favourite when you send her flowers?_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to RadiationNation] 15:13_

_Good call, though. And thanks, for addressing them from all of us._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to RadiationNation] 15:15_

_Home still feels weird without you. How’s Phil?_

_[Text: KillerHeels to RadiationNation, YouKnowWhoIAm, WarMachineROX, BusyBee, RedBalletShoes & MarvellousLady] 15:34_

_Movie night at mine Saturday? <3 _

_[Text: CarbonellGenius to **StarkWizard** ] 15:48_

_+25 to Ravenclaw, for Chivalrous Conduct and Considerate Gifting. Plus five for being my favourite._

_+5 to Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, for Gifting By Proxy._

_[Text: ItsyBitsySpiderGuy to **Wit Beyond Measure** ] 16:02_

_Who got us twenty five points?!_

Bruce came out of his session with Phil and, for the first time in his life, immediately checked his phone. The text from Pepper had a group chat attached, with 58 notifications – they’d be arguing about movies, no doubt – so he decided to read that one later, when he had the brain capacity to deal with it (which probably meant evening). The StarkWizard chat only had the one notification thank god, but Peter had blown up the Ravenclaw chat asking about the points.

Phil was a good man, and Bruce hadn’t realised until he got the reminder for the appointment that Tony had asked him to test one of the phones “from a working professional’s perspective” – though _AgentLazarus_ was hardly a professional username. Tony was apparently talking about generating some really progressive apps within StarkNet, Phil’s secretary said, but Bruce hadn’t yet had chance to ask Tony about it. Bruce only saw Phil once a month, for continuing care in regards to both anger management and depression. It was hard, but it was Bruce’s promise to Howard and Maria and it _did_ help.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to YouKnowWhoIAm] 16:04_

_I miss you too, Tony. And Mama. Always do… Phil is good. Says you should be proud of your innovations, says I should take some pride for myself. Likes the phone._

_[Text: RadiationNation to **Wit Beyond Measure** ] 16:04_

_That would be me, Peter, chill the fuck out kid._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to RadiationNation] 16:05_

_I’m glad. I’m not at Pepper’s on Saturday, by the way. Coming back with Steve Sunday evening._

_[Text: RadiationNation to YouKnowWhoIAm] 16:06_

_Need me to come get you or is Rhodey picking you up?_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to RadiationNation] 16:07_

_Nah, crashing at Steve and Clint’s._

_[Text: ItsyBitsySpiderGuy to **Wit Beyond Measure** ] 16:07_

_Oh!! Sorry Bruce :) :)_

_[Text: RadiationNation to YouKnowWhoIAm] 16:08_

_I still can’t believe they’re managing to live together._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to RadiationNation] 16:09_

_I can. Involves a score sheet and some modified nerf guns, but I can._

_[Text: RadiationNation to YouKnowWhoIAm] 16:10_

_… I don’t even want to know._

 

Bruce locked his phone after that, smiling at the idea of Steve and Clint challenging each other to anything – the two of them were the most competitive, _stubborn_ people, that Bruce had met, and generally the only one who could go up against them in anything was Natasha, (and Thor, by sheer size, when those friendship groups over lapped). He hummed under his breath to himself as he made his way back through the park towards his apartment. The park was full of life – kids walking with parents after school, owners walking dogs and couples walking hand-in-hand through the dried-out leaves.

He paused, and pulled out his phone. He typed out a text, wondering what exactly he was doing, before giving in and sending it anyway.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:26_

_How was your day, red shirt? Xx_

 

He put his phone back in his pocket, not expecting a fast reply, and tugged his scarf tighter around his neck against the fall breeze. He kept his head down as he walked, the day suddenly seeming a little bit colder, a little bit duller, and walked a little faster, suddenly desperate for the solace of his apartment. He could spend the afternoon working on the theory behind their- well- tricorder, and be sufficiently distracted from the pit in his stomach.

His phone buzzed as he reached the edge of the park.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:34_

_survivable, just like every day… I like Thursdays though, just got one shift n lectures. wbu? xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:35_

_Survivable… I like that. One seminar, a lab session and counselling. Tiring day. Xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:37_

_ur in counselling? how come, if I can ask? xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:39_

_Shitty childhood prior to stopping someone beating the hell out of Tony, some anger management issues and generally being a bit queer. Xx_

 

Bruce sent the text without thinking about it, and the moment he realised what he’d just said his stomach turned to lead. How could he be so careless? Whatever friendship he might’ve been able to forge here had just been prematurely doused in cold water. He was still stood on the steps of his apartment building, staring at his phone in horror when the reply came through.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:41_

_shit man, that’s rough. u doing better now? I hate getting angry anymore, just makes me feel sick xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:43_

_Yeah… yeah, I’m doing better. I know what you mean about feeling sick… so much so. But I’ve not let my anger get the best of me in a long time xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:44_

_proud of you Brucie :) xx_

 

Bruce nearly dropped his phone as he fumbled with his keys when that came through, and by the time he’d got his door open another had arrived.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:45_

_I hate therapy. mental, pt, all of it. I know it helps, but it’s like… ripping off the band aid to find the wound underneath got worse xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:46_

_Maria used to tell me that they’d only work if I wanted to get better… it took me a long time to stop being angry enough to realise things could be better. And now I do yoga xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:49_

_that did not go where I expected that to. I feel like there should b a flexibility joke somewhere… :D xx_

 

Bruce laughed at that, warmth flooding through him, and hoped that his yoga comment had made James laugh too. Feeling suddenly brave, Bruce typed out a reply, before locking his phone in mortification and leaving it on the counter top while he went for a shower to refresh himself a little.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:51_

_Oh Jamie, you don’t know the half of it xx_

+

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 17:03_

_holy shit Bruce._

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 17:04_

_u can’t just do that to me!_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 17:04_

_holy fuck sweetheart. damn. xxxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 17:12_

_Sorry, went for a shower, and the line was there. Xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 17:13_

_do NOT apologise for that :D xxxx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 17:13_

_I haven’t laughed like that in… too long. xxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 17:14_

_Happy to be of service. Xxx_

 

+

 

_[Picture: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:23_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:23_

_Do you think this works? I have no idea what I’m doing and my sister’s a fucking fashion designer xx_

Bruce felt ridiculous even asking, but somehow, he knew that James was never going to judge him for the question. The photo was the most awkward thing Bruce had ever taken, but the pale-yellow shirt, soft brown jeans and grey cardigan were obvious – as long as the colours weren’t like, a massive no-no, he figured he’d be okay. He hoped he’d be okay.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:25_

_u look like an adorable dorky professor. I like it xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:26_

_Thanks, James xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:28_

_can I ask, yesterday, u said queer? aint that a slur? xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to Wintercyborg] 16:29_

_Nah, not when I’m using it to describe myself. And when you’re a trans panromantic demisexual… queer’s quicker. Xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:30_

_huh. I’m gonna google that while ur at ur sister’s. but 4 reference I don’t care. ur still a hell of a dude bruce xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:30_

_Well that’s a relief. I completely wasn’t going to have a panic attack at all, nope xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:30_

_Okay, I’m off. Wish me luck xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:31_

_gd luck Brucie. breathe!! xxxxxxxx_

 

+

 

Before Jan had moved to Boston from LA, Bruce had been to Natasha’s apartment, but he hadn’t been since. He doubted much would’ve changed overall, but wandering down the corridor from the elevator to the door, one small difference was apparent. A name plaque, below the peep hole, that had “Nat & Jan” etched beautifully on it, with a pair of ballet slippers and a small ornate set of flowers. He grinned at the sight of it, took a deep breath and – tossing the flowers to his left hand so he could knock with his right – knocked just underneath it.

There was a call of ‘ _I got it!’_ in a voice that was definitely not Natasha’s and then a weight crashed into the door. The light behind the peep-hole disappeared, and then there was a high-pitched ‘ _eep!’_ and the door was being thrown open.

“Brucie!” Jan Van Dyne cried, barely giving Bruce time to see her before she was throwing her arms around his neck. He held the bouquet carefully away from him so that it wasn’t crushed, but happily wrapped his other arm around her slight waist to hug her back tightly. She pulled back with a vaguely manic grin and kissed him on both cheeks. “It’s so good to see you!” Bruce couldn’t help but laugh at her joy, grinning back at his sister.

“For you,” he told her, offering her the bouquet – tulips and lilies and things Bruce couldn’t name, mostly yellow with accents of white and orange and pale pink – and Jan’s face lit up in delighted surprise. She took the bouquet carefully with both hands and buried her face in it.

“Oh, I love them! Thank you!!” She leant forward to kiss his cheek again, before taking his hand and dragging him into the apartment, saying “come, come come come, you need a drink!” She left him by the couch for a moment, stepping into the kitchen to get the flowers in some water, and relieve Natasha from tending the stove. Natasha came out of the kitchen, grinning – she was still in her teaching gear, her hair messily up in a bun and she pulled Bruce into a hug.

“You did good Banner,” she told him. “Drink?”

“Please.” She smiled at him, and gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen. Their little circular table had been beautifully set for dinner, and Jan had nestled the flowers, now in a vase that Steve had made for Natasha as a house-warming gift, between the herbs they had growing on the windowsill.

“Take a seat,” Nat gestured at the table. “We’ve got white wine, if you want to partake?” She glanced over her shoulder as she reached into the glass cupboard, and Bruce nodded with a smile.

“Please. Accidentally came out to someone earlier and thought I was going to get ditched.” She placed the glasses on the table and moved past Jan at the stove – pressing a kiss to her shoulder as she did – and retrieved the wine from the rack.

“Did they take it well?” Jan asked, a hint of warning in her tone (not aimed at him, of course), as Natasha sat to Bruce’s right, and him a glass.

“Yeah, actually. So I’m still on the road to making a friend, but fuck it felt like my heart stopped for a moment there.” He shook his head and pulled the partially filled glass towards him. Natasha took the other and- “Long day at work?” Bruce asked, amused, as Natasha filled her glass to the brim and downed half of it in one long drag. Jan laughed at the stove, glancing back over her shoulder.

“I told Sunset Bain that her daughter wasn’t ever going to star in one of our class shows until she could actually dance.” Natasha told him, matter-of-fact, and Bruce’s laughter shocked himself.

“Holy shit, Tasha.” Bruce grinned, taking a sip of his wine.

“I wish I could’ve seen her face!” Jan sighed wistfully, “she’s so mean, and trying to manipulate our Tasha, after what she tried to do to Tony!” She sounded adorably cross and she turned with dishes in hand, three at once, and served them up as she sat down. Natasha was giving her the most adoring smile he’d ever seen from her, and he couldn’t help but gently kick her under the table to give her a shit-eating grin. Jan laughed at the scowl her girlfriend gave him. “Tuck in!” She told them, and Bruce did so.

“ _Oh my god._ ” Bruce couldn’t help it, “Jan this _amazing._ Makes me think of Khao soi, but…”

“It’s a variation from north-east Thailand.” Jan replied, looking quite smug as she fished out a chunk of beef with her chopsticks. “Rice noodles, not egg noodles, and no coconut milk.”

“It’s fucking good.” Bruce told her, and grinned when she giggled. They talked as they ate, Jan chatting about some of the people she worked with and the winter show deadline coming up, while Natasha updated Bruce on a couple of the students he’d met during the summer showcase. Bruce felt like he wasn’t adding much at times, but Jan kept grinning at him, and it didn’t take long before the three of them had finished the main course. The two of them, at first glance, didn’t seem like a good fit, but they worked together _beautifully_ , and Bruce always felt comfortable hanging out with both of them. They were, without a doubt, his best friends – apart from Tony, who really, he owed everything to – and they-

“Oh my god you made bua loi!” Bruce cheered when Jan brought the bowls of pudding over. “You are the _best_ , Janet Van Dyne-“ he picked up one of the pumpkin and taro root balls with his fingers, “-and don’t let anyone tell you different.” He spoke with his mouthful, and the pair of them were laughing at him. “Why did you have to be a lesbian?” he joked, and Natasha whacked him on the arm.

“Hey pancake, you could have had me!”

“No, I couldn’t, you scare me and Russian is difficult.”

Jan raised an eyebrow at him. “You taught yourself four languages for fun, in several different scripts, and you couldn’t learn Russian?”

“Not without fucking up my Klingon.”

“How does that even-?”

“God, you’re such a fucking nerd.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, three chapters at once... Next up, we've got Tony's POV. I should probably tag this some form of slow-build?


	4. Tony

 

## January 2010

 

Tony grasped Jan’s hand to haul her up onto the roof beside him. Even two years younger than her he was stronger, and she tugged her scarf tighter around her neck before twining their fingers together and dropping the trapdoor closed, the sound whipped away on the breeze.

They’d come looking for Bruce.

He wasn’t reluctant to be their brother, Tony didn’t think – at least, he hoped not – but he was wary, still, of letting people in. He didn’t have any friends that Tony knew of, and Tony was four years younger; they probably weren’t going to be best friends, but still… Tony had thought they’d cracked it over Christmas, over the ridiculous Harry Potter quiz that Bruce seemed to come alive over. And now he was on the roof.

“Bruce?” Jan called out, and somewhere further down the roof there was a sigh, and then a hand was raised to silhouette against the night sky and wave at them. The roof was bordered off, but they still took care in making their way over to him. Bruce had hauled a duvet up and laid it out to make the roof a bit more comfortable, and as he was laid in the centre of it, they each took a side of him and laid down.

“What can I do for you, kids?” Bruce asked – maybe he was trying to sound bored, or annoyed, but he just came off as nervous.

“We were worried.” Jan told him somewhere in the dark, and Bruce turned his head to look at her – Tony couldn’t see what she did, but then Bruce was turning to look at him – his jagged haircut was grown-out some and curls fell in his face – he seemed wide-eyed behind rectangular frames.

“We were.” Tony confirmed, and Bruce’s shock seemed to grow. Tony smiled, before turning to look up at the sky. “It’s so weird to see them.” He murmured, and after a long moment, Bruce hmmed an agreement.

“It’s why I came up,” he admitted. “When I realised we were running off the generator and the rest of the city was without power… I had to see.” He smiled. “My grandmother’s house had a fantastic view,” he told them, “back when I was little, my grandfather would take me out into the backyard, and tell me stories. I don’t believe half of them were ever proper legends… but I liked them.”

“Mama’s an astronomer at heart.” Jan told him, “she loves study the stars. I wouldn’t be surprised if Papa used you both liking them as an excuse to finally build her a powerful enough telescope to see the sky without a powercut.” Bruce laughed softly.

“Would he really?”

“Fuck yeah he would.” Tony murmured. “We only have a house-wide electronic system because I wanted to build an AI that works with them.” He was grinning. Bruce’s shoulders were shaking, and then he realised that Bruce was laughing.

“That’s just… surreal.” Bruce admitted. “God, your family is cool.”

“Our family.” Jan and Tony corrected in sync, and Jan continued, “you’re a part of it too, now.” Tony reached out to squeeze Bruce’s hand briefly in affirmation, and was surprised when Bruce didn’t let go.

“I’m trying,” he promised them. “I- I promise you I care, I just-“

“Don’t really know how to show it?” Tony asked, and there was a choked off _yes_ from beside him. “Dad was like that… three years ago, me and him didn’t really talk. Mama threatened him with divorce. He got better, and so will you.”

“Sounds like a long road.” Bruce whispered.

“We’ll walk it with you.” Jan told him, and Tony was nodding in agreement before Bruce even looked at him to see if the feeling was mutual.

“Yeah?” he asked, turning back to stare at the sky, and Tony did the same. The universe was vast, and Tony was still determined he was going to get up there one day.

“Yeah. Us Stark kids gotta stick together.” Jan told him. Tony could see Bruce frown out of the corner of his eye.

“Star kids?” he asked.

“ _Stark_ kids.” Jan corrected him, laughing.

“I don’t know, I like Star Kids.” Tony mused, grinning, though it immediately fell into a scowl when Jan spoke.

“You’d be the tiniest star ever.”

“Fuck you, you’d be obnoxious.” Tony retorted.

“You can’t have an obnoxious star, Tony, that doesn’t work.” Bruce mused, half a laugh in his words. “How about Jaunty? Bright, loud and obnoxious _looking_.”

“Brilliant!” Tony grinned, laughing, and Bruce squeezed his hand gently.

“Guuuuys.” Jan whined, but she was laughing, and she gestured above them with her and Bruce’s joined hands, “If we’re Tiny and Jaunty Star, you know what that makes you, Bruce?” she asked.

“N-o?” Bruce sounded worried, and Tony understood the feeling.

“Bright Star. Bright, Jaunty and Tiny Star, the kids beyond the limit of the sky.” She spoke softly, wistfully, and a comfortable silence fell between them.

 

+

 

## August 2017

 

_[Text: BusyBee to RadiationNation, YouKnowWhoIAm] 00:05_

_He’s so preeetty, Tiny! Tiny Star, look at what I did to Bright Star’s nails!_

_[Picture: BusyBee to RadiationNation, YouKnowWhoIAm] 00:05_

_[RadiationNation renamed the group **StarKids** ] 00:06_

_[Text: RadiationNation to **StarKids** ] 00:06_

_Tiny, Jaunty outdid herself, look!_

_[Text: RadiationNation to **StarKids** ] 00:32_

_Tiny Tiny Tony Star-Stark, we miss you!_

_[Picture: RadiationNation to **StarKids** ] 00:34_

_[Text: BusyBee to **StarKids** ] 00:43_

_Uh oh, Nat’s found the vodka!! Abort!!!! Abort!!_

_[Text: RadiationNation to **StarKids** ] 00:51_

_If I should die think only this of me; I’ll be back to get you!_

_[Picture: BusyBee to **StarKids** ] 01:56_

_[Text: BusyBee to **StarKids** ] 01:57_

_our prety flower boyyyyy, bright’s been nat-doodled!!!_

_[Text: LightningLegend to **Hufflefuck You :)** ] 07:45_

_Do we know the exact dates for this years’ StarkWizard? My father wishes us to visit family this December._

Tony woke up to more notifications on his phone than boded well for his sanity. He glanced at the boxes on the screen, each with various numbers on them, and groaned, slamming the offending object back on his bedside table.

“Tony, wha-?”

Steve’s voice was sleep muffled, and Tony rolled back towards his boyfriend and kissed him on the forehead, before burrowing back under the covers until they were at the same level again. “Just my siblings drunk-texting me, don’t worry about it babe.” Steve hummed in reply, and tucked his face into Tony’s neck.

“If ya say so,” Tony could feel him smile against his neck, and it still made him feel giddy, “though you should prob’ly reply.” He leant backwards a little to pick it back up, and then nearly dropped it on his face when a notification came through.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to **StarKids** ] 10:07_

_Mistakes were made._

 

Tony laughed softly – the StarKids group chat had been a staple in their sibling-ship for as long as Bruce had been a part of the family, and it’s reinstation did make him smile.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to **StarKids** ] 10:07_

_How the fuck do you get permanent marker off your face? I have a meeting between now and movie night!!_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **StarKids** ] 10:07_

_Meeting, ha, you’re going to see the cute barista and work for an hour, aren’t you? Also, same way you get off oil. And twenty layers of skin cells._

_[Text: RadiationNation to **StarKids** ] 10:08_

_Jee thanks, Tiny._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **StarKids** ] 10:08_

_Fuck off, Bright._

_[Text: BusyBee to **StarKids** ] 10:08 _

_Cute Barista???? Why am I only just hearing about this???? Boys???_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **StarKids** ] 10:09_

_I don’t know Jaunty, why -are- you only just hearing about this?_

_[Text: RadiationNation to **StarKids** ] 10:09_

_With all the love I can muster when deathly hungover and have flowers drawn in black pm on my face, fuck off. It’s nothing._

_[Text: BusyBee to **StarKids** ] 10:10_

_Sorry Bright. Hey, you gotta introduce us at some point though?_

_[Text: RadiationNation to **StarKids** ] 10:11 _

_Nah I don’t. Off for a shower, stars. Bright-out._

 

Tony sighed, and then groaned when a private text from his sister came through – for all he enjoyed teasing Bruce, keeping Jan out of Bruce and Bucky fixing themselves together was going to be an impossible task. If he’d learnt anything from Phil, it was people had to heal at their own pace – and if Bruce was to do that, without putting all his walls up, Jan _had_ to stay out of it, as did Tony.

And Maria.

And Steve.

Fuck.

 

_[Text: BusyBee to YouKnowWhoIAm] 10:13_

_What did I miss???!!_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to BusyBee] 10:13_

_The cute barista is Bucky, but I don’t think he knows that yet, and I’m also pretty sure they’re texting. You’re sworn to secrecy, and to leave them to it. They both need this._

_[Text: BusyBee to YouKnowWhoIAm] 10:13_

_…or what??_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to BusyBee] 10:14_

_Or the fountain incident of 2008 with the cactus, Justin Hammer and the canape tray goes public. No one knows, Jan. I just… have a good feeling about this._

_[Text: BusyBee to YouKnowWhoIAm] 10:14_

_I hate it when you’re the emotionally mature one!!! You’re younger than us, Tiny, can’t you act like it??_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to BusyBee] 10:15_

_Never._

 

Tony sighed, and dropped his phone on the pillow behind his head – Steve hadn’t fallen asleep again like Tony had thought, but was just smiling softly and silently watching Tony play with his phone. His hair flopped in front of his face, and Tony reached out with gentle fingers to tuck it behind Steve’s ear. Steve caught his hand before he could pull it away, cupping his hand as Tony cupped his face, and Tony huffed a small laugh, tracing his thumb under Steve’s eye.

“What are you thinking, darling?” Tony asked, and at first Steve just hummed, blue eyes meeting brown.

“I’m thinking that I’d be quite content to wake up next to you for the rest of my life.” Steve murmured, his face never anything less than adoring.

“You’re such a sap,” Tony teased, but immediately let himself be more sincere – in the way only Steve got to see him, in those sleep-softened hours they spent in each other’s company. “My sap, though.”

Steve turned to press a kiss to Tony’s palm. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

 

+

 

He was walking hand-in-hand with Steve around the Met when his phone buzzed.

 

_[Text: EmeraldMischief to YouKnowWhoIAm] 14:53_

_can I stay for December?_

 

Tony sighed, feeling an ache in his chest for the thirteen-year-old boy. He’d been adopted five years ago by Odin and Frigga because Frigga adored the boy, and despite the eleven-year age gap, Loki and Thor got on well – but Frigga had passed away two years ago. Odin had fallen into grief and then illness, and made no effort to connect to the boy who was his son on paper, but not in any other way. Thor could bridge the gap when he was home for the holidays, but mostly… Loki lived in the mansion. He spent weekends and evenings there, and Odin barely noticed. Mama was all but ready to adopt the boy, but Howard was not yet there. Tony taught Loki how to play the piano and otherwise kept his nose out of it. He wasn’t against having another brother – far from it, Loki would flourish as a socialite – but he wasn’t quite willing to join the argument.

 

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to EmeraldMischief] 14:54_

_Of course lil bro. Message Papa, he’ll sort it out._

_[Text: EmeraldMischief to YouKnowWhoIAm] 14:55_

_not Mama?_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to EmeraldMischeif] 14:55_

_She’ll call you…_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to StarkVader] 14:56_

_Daaaad, I know what I want for Christmas._

 

“Tony, you’re not even listening to me.” Steve teased, and Tony pocketed his phone then to grin over at his boyfriend.

“I’m always listening dearest,” Tony told him. “Just because I don’t know what you’re staying doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the way you say it.” Tony laughed and met Steve halfway when he leant over to kiss him.

“Your words enchant me, sir, but your actions leave something to desire.” Steve grinned, and Tony feigned offence.

“My prince, your words wound me! I have nothing but your welfare in mind and my heart to give.” Tony couldn’t hold the straight face, and Steve laughed.

“God, I love you.” Steve leant forward and kissed him again, going up on his tiptoes for a moment. He pulled back almost reluctantly, and then paused in front of a painting, a Van Gogh that Tony recognised by technique, though not by name or content. “How’s Loki?” Steve asked.

“Hm?”

“That was your Loki face, doll.” Steve glanced sideways at him, a quirk of a smile on his lips.

“He’s getting closer to being adopted every day.” Tony murmured, and Steve squeezed his hand gently. “It would do him good. He’s made to be a socialite… and he adores my mother and her work. She needs that, with us all moving into Stark Industries.” Tony sighed, and ran a hand over his face.

“You ready not to be the youngest, Stark?” Steve teased, and Tony groaned, making Steve laugh.

“They’re going to call me Tiny until the day I diiieee.” Tony whined, and his phone buzzed then, rattling against the keys in his pocket, and when Tony didn’t reach for it Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “I was trying to be polite…” Tony grumbled, pulling it out.

 

_[Text: StarkVader to YouKnowWhoIAm] 15:00_

_And what would that be, darling son of mine?_

 

Tony sniggered. “I think Dad’s on to me…” he muttered, showing Steve the texts as he typed a reply.

 

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to StarkVader] 15:01_

_Oh most amazing father and CEO, I would like to make a formal request for a little brother. The time has come – I can no longer be the youngest. The world is changing and we must change with it._

 

“You’re such a melodramatic asshole.” Steve told him, laughing.

“Says the man who turns his minor inconveniences into comic plots of grand action, betrayal and woe.” Tony shot him a grin, and Steve scowled at him – but it was barely a moment before he was grinning again, and they strolled along.

“I’d love to have a painting in here one day, though.” Steve admitted, not for the first time. Steve was an artist, an extraordinarily talented one who had Tony not met by accident, his soul would’ve lamented the loss without knowing why. His serious works were astounding, awe-worthy in the most literal, emotional of ways – but it was for his comics with Shield Entertainment that he was most well-known. A modernised fantasy tale, of romance, family and the obstacles of an ever-changing world and an ever-growing evil. It was praised for the exquisite backgrounds and attention to detail, the diversity of the cast, and how it chose to deal with current issues. Sacrificial Hearts was daring and progressive, and Steve Rogers’s pride and joy. He’d started work on it at 17, and at 22 he’d left university with an Art History degree and straight into a 40-issue contract with Shield. The contract was continually being updated as sales continued to climb.

Tony had six issues framed in his office at SI, and when he was no longer Head of R&D and had taken over from his father as CEO, he’d move them with him, and add them to the two that Howard had also chosen to frame. He adored them, covers that mirrored points in their lives, and he’d saved them even if they were to break up. It was a day he didn’t think would come, not if he had any say in it, but the sentiment was there.

“I can make it happen, y’know.” Was what he said to express all of this.

“I know, but I’m not here for your power and money Tony. I want to earn it.” Steve told him, and Tony smiled.

“I know, and I have no doubt.”

The smile Steve returned his with was blinding, and Tony couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss him.

 

_[Text: StarkVader to YouKnowWhoIAm] 15:07_

_It amazes me that we’ve reached a point I don’t know which kid you’re pestering me about. Is this Loki, Peter or Miles?_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to StarkVader] 15:07_

_Since when were we adopting Miles?_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to StarkVader] 15:08_

_Not the point; we need to find a way to keep Loki. He can’t stay with Odin when Thor’s not around, and with Thor mostly undergoing training and staying with Jane… It’s not a good environment Papa._

_[Text: StarkVader to YouKnowWhoIAm] 15:09_

_I’ll call you in 20._

 

“Shit.” Tony swore under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, looking away from the paintings they were wandering past.

“Dad’s calling me. I _knew_ I should’ve stayed out of this.” Steve sighed, and squeezed his hand.

“It’s not in your nature, though.” Steve pointed out. “If it comes to it, we’ll just adopt him ourselves.” Steve froze then, like he’d only just realised what he’d implied.

“That little shit is not being our first child.” Tony told him, feeling Steve relax into an easy grin beside him. “I want a girl.” Steve hummed in agreement.

“Definitely… we could call her Jamie.” Steve replied softly, and Tony squeezed his hand tightly.

“I’d like that.”

 

+

 

“You’re so like your mother, you know that?” Was how Howard began when Tony answered the call.

“Thank you, I think?” Tony replied.

“We weren’t going to mention it,” Howard began, “because it’s still in the works, but with your mother and I retiring in a few years… we were considering repurposing the mansion.”

“How so?” Tony asked, not daring to consider what Howard was implying.

“A… way house, for troubled and gifted kids. We have more space than we can spare and plenty of money to put into the cause. Help kids who have a troubled home life. Run weekend things. I don’t know, I think she feels like we could expand StarkWizard into a charity thing as well as a family thing.”

“How long has Mama been pestering you about this as a retirement plan?” Tony asked, amused.

“Two years.” Howard admitted, and Tony laughed. “She’s not wrong though. Ten years ago, I would have dismissed the notion, but seeing what we did for Bruce, and how much your friends seem to carry on gathering here and calling us family… we could do so much. Philanthropist is a title I’m yet to earn, and maybe this is how I do it.” Tony considered his words for a moment.

“Papa, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, shooting Steve a smile and stepping away from the crowds for a moment. “SI is a fantastic legacy, why is _that_ your argument?”

“A brain tumour.” Howard confessed, and Tony felt all the breath leave his lungs.

“ _Papa_.”

“It wasn’t malignant,” Howard continued, like Tony hadn’t spoken, though his voice wavered. “They removed it entirely, with no lasting effects, but- well, it shakes one’s core.”

“Why didn’t you say?! What the fuck! Did you tell _anyone_?”

“No.” Tony could just see Howard leant against his head and shaking his head. “Only Maria, and now you. I didn’t want to worry anyone, but you’re my son, and I should-“

“Damn _right,_ you should’ve! I- I thought we were past this. What happened to no secrets? You- you could’ve-“ Tony broke off, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Tony.” Howard murmured, “I really am, but it was as you were writing your thesis and I didn’t want to cause you more stress-“

“Just,” Tony cut him off. “Just don’t keep this shit from me again, alright? From any of us.”

“I won’t, Tony. I promise you that.”

“ _Fuck_ , this was not the emotional rollercoaster I anticipated.”

“You get a little brother though. You’ll get a lot. And some sisters. And maybe some in the middle or outside the box. I don’t know how it works, but my point is-“

“The Stark’s are going to carry on growing?” Tony asked, accepting the subject change gratefully.  

“Let’s face it, Maria adores children so much it was never going to stop.” Howard’s smile was evident in his tone. “But it’s all still in the works, so maybe don’t go telling everyone? Not just yet.”

“Keep me posted on it?” Tony asked, and Howard hummed his agreement. Tony swallowed hard. “Love you.”

“Love you too, kid.” Howard replied, sounding a little choked up himself, and with that Tony was hanging up and wandering back to Steve.

 

+

 

_[Picture: Killer Heels to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:04_

_[Text: Killer Heels to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:04_

_We miss you guys!_

 

The picture was a group selfie of the movie night at Pepper’s, with her, Bruce, Carol, Rhodey, Natasha and Jan crammed into the frame, pulling ridiculous faces. Tony saved it instantly, grinning about getting it obnoxiously framed and hanging it up somewhere obvious.

“Babe, look at this!” Tony held him phone in front of Steve’s book from where he was laid across the couch, using Steve as a pillow. Steve sighed, but it choked off into a laugh when he saw the picture.

“That is amazing.” Steve acquiesced, tapping Tony’s hand to get him to take the phone back.

 

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:05 _

_I’m getting that made into wallpaper._

_[Text: RedBalletShoes to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:06_

_Do it and I gut you, Stark._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:06_

_You’d never hurt Jan like that <3 _

_[Text: WarMachineROX to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:07 _

_Thanks man, now we’re all being subjected to your sister’s puppy eyes_

_[Text: MarvellousLady to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:07_

_I want that wall paper. Blow Rhodey-bear’s face up and send it to his mom._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:08 _

_Carol, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; you’re a marvellous human being._

_[Text: MarvellousLady to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:08_

_Too fucking right._

_[Text: WarMachineROX to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:08 _

_I hate you all._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:09 _

_Not yet you don’t._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **StarkWizard** ] 21:09_

_What points does this get? :D_

_[Picture: YouKnowWhoIAm to **StarkWizard** ] 21:10_

 

Steve glanced at his phone as the StarkWizard notifications came through and sighed. “You’re going to lose us points, I can guarantee it.” Tony just turned his head to kiss the back of Steve’s hand.

 

_[Text: WarMachineROX to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:10_

_Oh you bastard_

_[Text: RadiationNation to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:10 _

_XD XD tiny you’re a git_

_[Text: BusyBee to **Louis Lane Appreciation Society** ] 21:11 _

_Oh my goD WHY!_

 

Tony laughed, and held his phone up for Steve to see. Steve tugged it a little closer, and-

“Babe did you take your glasses off?” Tony asked around a sigh.

“I left them in the kitchen after we cooked tea, but I didn’t realise until you were comfy.” Steve replied nonchalantly, pushing the phone back with a gentle laugh. Tony began to search his jacket pockets.

“… that was an hour ago, Steven.” He scolded, finding the slim case and holding it up.

“Don’t ‘Steven’ me, Anthony Edward-” Steve teased, and then stalled. “Those are my spare glasses.” He said dumbly.

“They live in my pocket.” Tony admitted, relinquishing them and going back to his phone.

 

_[Text: CarbonellGenius to **StarkWizard** ] 21:13_

_+15 to Gryffindor, +5 to Ravenclaw and +10 to Slytherin, for a beautiful photo. -5 from Hufflepuff for being an asshole._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **StarkWizard** ] 21:13_

_Mama, why?!_

_[Text: WarMachineROX to **StarkWizard** ] 21:13 _

_Hahahahahahaha, thank you Ms Maria!_

 

“Not going to lie, that was not as harsh as I expected it to be.” Tony murmured as his mother put the points up. Steve didn’t answer. “Darling?” Tony rolled so he was looking up, though currently all he had was a book cover in his face.

“You keep my spare glasses in your pocket.” Steve whispered.

“Yes?” Tony asked, tugging the book down so he can see Steve’s face. He was smiling slightly, half in shock. “Why does that shock you? We’ve been dating for two and a half years, and how many times have you lost them, or left them somewhere?” Tony teased, a little unsure why it had garnered such a reaction. Steve didn’t say anything, and Tony looked back at his phone when it buzzed.

 

_[Text: AwwCoffeeNo to **StarkWizard** ] 21:14 _

_how did u not c that coming stark?_

_[Text: TheUnbelieveableMs to **Hufflefuck You :)** ] 21:14 _

_Well that back fired, Tones._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **Hufflefuck You :)** ] 21:15_

_Worth it. We’re still 60 points ahead._

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to **StarkWizard** ] 21:15 _

_Sod off Clint :P_

 

“You continuing to stare at me like I’m the centre of the universe is vaguely unnerving.” Tony told him, flicking out of the chats to go check the times of their flights tomorrow.

“Marry me.”  The words took Tony completely by surprise, and he reacted the way any normal person would’ve.

He fell off the couch.

“ _What_?” Tony asked, barely more than a breath.

“Marry me,” Steve repeated, surer this time and beginning to grin. “You _are_ the centre of my universe, Tony. I- don’t want anything else, for the rest of my days.”

“You’re serious…” Tony murmured, picking himself up off the floor but never looking away from Steve. He nodded, still smiling.

“Ring’s in my coat pocket.” He admitted, and Tony’s half-sob shocked them both – he hadn’t even realised he had tears in his eyes. “Shall I-?” he asked, and Tony nodded vigorously, raiding shaking hands to cover his mouth. Steve got up from the couch with a grin, and rifled through his coat hung over the chair, to produce a simple black box.

He came back holding it, hands as steady as Tony had ever seen them, and he got down on one knee, and Tony couldn’t help but huff a laugh. He opened the box with a grin and a flourish, to reveal a wonderfully simple golden back, with a ring of what looked like silver inlaid.

“Anthony Edward Stark,” Steve began, “since the day you crashed into me outside the coffee shop, I’ve known what I wanted. And that’s, if you’ll say yes, to be your husband.” Tony grinned, but Steve continued before he could reply. “More than that, I want to be your best friend, and your partner in crime. I- you make me feel taller, and stronger, than I’ll ever actually be. You make me feel like a _superhero_ , Tony, and look at me like I’m the moon and the stars you adore so much, and that’s more than I can ever ask for.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Tony told him, and Steve held the box up a little higher.

“So how about it, sweetheart? Let me be Mr Steven Stark?” he asked.

“Dear god _yes_!” Tony exclaimed, holding out his hand and seeing that it wasn’t shaking any more, for Steve to slip the ring on. It fit perfectly, a lovely weight.

“There’s a chain, for when you’re in the work-“ Steve began, but Tony cut him off by hauling him up into a kiss.

 

 

 


	5. Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than I'd like, but it rounded off nicely and I didn't want to extend it just for the sake of a word count. Chapter Six is still a work in progress, but I'm happy to announce we're getting Steve's POV for it! Anything y'all want to see, please drop me a line! I promise I don't bite and I love talking to people. 
> 
> Also, this chapter is somewhat dedicated to deannamb over on tumblr, who upon reading this fic so I could commission some bits (the first one is beautiful, I can't wait to show y'all!) also corrected my italian. <3

## May 2015

 

“Hi Ma, B-Becs.”

Bucky swallowed.

It was a warm day for spring, but he stayed buttoned up into his ceremonial uniform, hat tucked up the arm that remained, the other sleeve rolled up and neatly pinned.

Once, he never thought he’d live a day without them.

It had been awful to lose his mother, his sister, their dog and their house and their _home_ to a fire, a fire he can’t help but feel like wouldn’t have happened had he not been at Steve’s.

It had been horrific to lose his father to drink and despair.

He had gained a new home, in Steve and Sarah, in their rag-tag cat that Steve tried desperately not to be allergic to, in their paint stained clothes and Sarah’s late shifts. He’d almost gained a new life; but his father’s family, after his death, expected and pressured and pushed for him to be a soldier like his father.

So he had, and now he was here at Winnifred Barnes’ grave at the end of it all. At the grave of his mother, his sister, and wishing somewhere in the back of his head that he was under the stone with them. He could not abandon Sam, but once he thought his future was going to be chasing his sister around until they were both adults and pretending they weren’t still childish as hell. He would cook with his mother and read with his father. He’d be a mechanic, or a chef, or a teacher, and he’d have nieces and nephews galore. He’d bring someone home and they’d add to their table with Steve and Sarah and anyone else in need.

The initials carved under the table, by an eleven-year-old Bucky and nine-year-old Becca a week _before_ … they should’ve been added to. There should have been seven, eight, ten, twenty more sets of initials to add to that old oak dining table.

He wished it was raining. It’s so much easier to be miserable when it’s raining.

“So, er, I lost an arm? And Riley… Brock was exactly the asshole I said he was though. I ain’t sad the bastard’s dead ma, I’m just sad it wasn’t me that killed him.” He swallowed again, and shifted slightly – stood in front of his ma’s grave, confessing like a sinner in church. “It- doesn’t make me a bad person Ma. It can’t. He was an awful guy, he got us- it’s-.” He took a deep, shaking breath. “I gotta blame him.”

An ambush. Set up by Brock, to have them ambushed and _blown up_.

Riley fell.

Clint’s deaf.

He’s down an arm.

Sam’s on crutches.

Kate’s got pins in all the joints in her arms.

Brock got a bullet to the head for his troubles, and Bucky hates himself that he hates that he wasn’t the one to put it there.

“I- I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Ma.” Bucky admitted. “Becs, you were the smart one – I’m just- me. I ain’t got brains like you or Stevie, I was just your sports scholarship guy. An’ now I’m just a mess.

I’m just broken.”

 

+

 

## August 2017

 

“Come on sleeping beauty, rise and shine!”

“F’k’off Sam.”

“Nope, you’ve got a shift today that one cute scientist will be sad if you miss.” Sam’s voice was almost sing-song, and Bucky groaned, pulling the pillow tighter around his ears.

“I shoulda never told ya ‘bout that.”

“No, you should not. Come on, shirt shoes shave. And maybe some pants, if you would.”

“I hate you.”

“Incorrect again, Barnes. Up and at em, Cap, Monday’s the day!”

“The day f’what?” Bucky asked blearily, but he did remove the pillow from over his head.

“Hell freezing over – your classes are cancelled, we’ve got popcorn for this evening, and I made you breakfast.” Sam listed off, and then pointed at him. “But only if you get up and shower.” Bucky grumbled, but pushed himself up slightly.

It’d been a bad night.

Sam had woken him up at 3am and nearly got himself clocked in the face, but he’d been unable to take listening to Bucky scream in his sleep and taken the risk. He’d stayed – they did that a lot with nightmares, the close quarters easy to mistake as safer, when really they were already in the least danger they’d ever been.

PTSD was a weird bastard.

 _God_ , did Bucky’s shoulder hurt today.

All he had was a shift though, if Sam was telling the truth, and that… that he could get up for. He shoved himself up and stretched as best he could, hoping they still had enough hot water for him to stand there for an hour.

He got out of the shower and went to turn the music off on his phone to find Steve had texted him.

 

_[Text: StarSpangled to WinterCyborg] 08:54_

_I’ve got a favour to ask you._

_[Text: WinterCyborg to StarSpangled] 08:56_

_let’s face it, I’m gonna say yes to u punk_

_[Picture: StarSpangled to WinterCyborg] 08:57_

_[Text: StarSpangled to WinterCyborg] 08:57_

_Be my best man?_

 

Bucky nearly dropped his phone, and then scrambled to catch it, dropping back onto his bed with a thump. He flicked his wet hair out of his face so he could see picture properly, and sure enough – that was a ringed-finger Tony was holding up to the camera as he kissed Steve on the cheek, the ring Bucky, Sam and Tasha had spent an hour in the shop helping him pick out. Bucky grinned, truly grinned and saved the photo.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to StarSpangled] 08:59_

_as your best man, can it b my duty to show that picture to sam?_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to YouKnowWhoIAm] 09:00_

_I’m super happy for u guys. it’s about time_

_[Text: StarSpangled to WinterCyborg] 09:00_

_You’ve got a four minute window in which to ruin it for him :P Tony’s sending out a group text once he gets off the phone with Maria_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to StarSpangled] 09:01_

_brb gotta go spoil that for him in revenge for the airhorn_

 

“Sam, help me with this strap?” Bucky called out – he _did_ need the help today, his entire shoulder still burning with pain, but first he held out the phone.

“Hey, you’re up-“ Sam started, probably about to praise him or nag him, or promise him food, but the words never came as he stared at the photo. It took him a moment to comprehend what he was seeing, but then he swore a blue streak. “Son of a _bitch_ , he finally asked! What happened to the plan?”

“It fell at the first hurdle, the first hurdle being Steve.” Bucky laughed, pulling his phone back to him. “I do need a hand,” he admitted, and Sam gave him a smile before fixing the straps for him.

“It’s nice to see you smiling like that, Cap.” Sam told him softly as he worked, and before Bucky replied he stepped back and flicked his ear. “Now come eat your damn breakfast and get going.”

 

+

 

“You okay?” Bucky asked, hovering by the edge of Bruce’s table. He looked up with a sigh and smiled, putting down his phone.

“My brother announced his engagement this morning, and there’s already an argument over who’s going to be the best man or- well, best woman.” He explained, and then he spoke in a rush; “If you’re on break you’re welcome to join me.” Bucky’s heart skipped a beat – he was certain Bruce hadn’t realised he was WinterCyborg. It would probably be the sensible thing to mention it.

“Steve asked me, straight up, so. I think Sam’s sulking, but I got here first.” Bucky said, sitting down opposite him with a grin – he had fifteen minutes of break left, plenty of time to clear up what could’ve potentially become a landmine later. Bruce looked desperately confused for a moment, before he dropped his head to the table.

“You’re Bucky.” He murmured. “Tony built your goddamn arm _and I keep meaning to bring him to see it_.” Bucky’s laugh shocked them both.

“For someone so smart…” he began, and Bruce simply levelled him with a glare. “If it helps, I didn’t even know Tony _had_ siblings.” Bruce sniggered, then.

“Okay, that does help.” He smiled, and Bucky felt his cheeks heat, even as he smiled back. A smirk crept onto Bruce’s face. “So you’re the red shirt cyborg.”

“And you’re Brucie blue shirt.” Bucky snarked right back, in a way he usually only could with Sam. Bruce grinned. “That’s- that’s not bad, is it?” he asked, suddenly nervous – being a solider was one thing, but the PTSD-riddled amputee was a whole other game. Bruce frowned, but he glanced at the arm and back up at Bucky’s face – what he saw Bucky couldn’t say – and then smiled.

“On the contrary, you could say it’s something of a relief.” Bruce told him, and then seemed to remember he still had half a drink sat in front of him and hastily took a sip. They sat there smiling at each other in comfortable silence, not really caring for the passage of time, until Bruce’s phone vibrated against the table. He stared at it for a moment, before picking it up to read the message. “Oh Mama…” he laughed, and then turned the phone around to show Bucky the text. “This is how she reacts to her son getting engaged.”

 

_[Text: CarbonellGenius to **StarkWizard** ] 12:10_

_+40 points to Hufflepuff, for a miracle, an excuse to celebrate, and a happy future. (You get 50 points per grandchild.)_

 

Bucky laughed. “No subtly there.” Bruce shook his head.

“Subtly is not Mama’s way when she wants something. She just brings things up until you relent and give her what she wants.” Bucky couldn’t help but watch Bruce as he spoke, the fondness in his gaze as he read whatever replies came through and the smile curling the edge of his lips. He had the smallest smattering of freckles over his nose that Bucky had never noticed before.

“Can I ask why points to Hufflepuff?” Bucky asked, realising he didn’t know.

“Oh, that’s for StarkWizard. You should- you could come, this year? If you wanted.” Bruce glanced up nervously, and Bucky smiled.

“I don’t know what that is, but sure.” Bucky agreed, not really caring what it was, only that his answer made Bruce grin.

“It’s like the Hogwarts house tournament, but it’s all of us,” Bruce explained, making a few taps on his phone and then handing it over. “We sort new people at Christmas, and have the final events that lead to the winner for the year. That’s the chat we can submit things to – I’m head of Ravenclaw, your brother and Tony are Hufflepuffs, and Jan is head of Gryffindor.”

Bucky scrolled down the list of coloured names, noting what names he did and didn’t know, and most he _did_ , he’d only heard and never met. He got towards the end of the list and- “Clint’s a _Ravenclaw?_ ” he asked. Bruce laughed.

“Shocked me too, but there’s been a lot of challenges we couldn’t have finished without him.” Bruce smiled, clearly thinking of one of those instances. Bucky’s phone beeped in his pocket, and just like that the good mood he was building up plummeted again. “Back to work?” Bruce asked, his smile slipping too.

“Back to work.” Bucky murmured. “I’ll text you when my shifts over?” he offered, and Bruce was smiling again like a switch had been flicked.

“I’d like that.”

 

+

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to YouKnowWhoIAm & StarSpangled] 15:03_

_I put my vote in for Bruce to be best man._

 

Bucky sent the text as he shouldered his bag and left the shop, and laughed when a reply came through immediately.

 

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to WinterCyborg & StarSpangled] 15:03_

_At this rate neither Jan nor Bruce are getting it just so they both remain speaking to me and each other._

_[Text: WinterCyborg to YouKnowWhoIAm & StarSpangled] 15:04_

_u should ask nat, she’ll love it_

_[Text: StarSpangled to YouKnowWhoIAm & WinterCyborg] 15:04_

_Since when did you know Bruce, Buck?_

 

Bucky stalled – he hadn’t considered that. He sat at one of the tables outside the café for a moment to reply.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to StarSpangled & YouKnowWhoIAm] 15:05_

_irrelevant_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to StarSpangled & YouKnowWhoIAm] 15:05_

_u know there’s such a thing as bridal parties, right? just get both of them to stand by u_

_[Text: YouKnowWhoIAm to WinterCyborg & StarSpangled] 15:06_

_Buckaroo you’re a genius. Remind me to upgrade your arm._

_[Text: StarSpangled to WinterCyborg & YouKnowWhoIAm] 15:06 _

_Thanks Buck_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:07_

_I settled the best man argument. ur welcome xxxx_

 

Bucky sent off the text in triumph, and hoped that seven minutes beyond his shift’s end didn’t give away that he’d been itching to pick up his phone for the last few hours since Bruce had left. He got up and went to slip his phone in his pocket, but it buzzed with a message coming through.

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 15:07_

_One argument down, a gazillion to go… jeez, this is going to get insane xxxx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:08_

_weddings do that xxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 15:08_

_Wouldn’t know, I’ve never been to one xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:08_

_I worked in a florist in hs. pan-demodium I tell ya xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 15:09_

_… was that a pun? Xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:10_

_it might’ve been? xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:11_

_on an unrelated topic, do u like pancakes? xxx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:11_

_is ur weapon of choice a frying pan? xxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 15:12_

_Oh dear god. I take it your googling went well on Saturday? Xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:12_

_I feel like I got a whole new hs diploma. I also forgot 2 sleep xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:13_

_brb, just gotta get home xx_

 

Bucky put his phone away as he walked down into the tube station – he hated it, he hated it so much, but he was desperate to be home. He navigated the gates and the tickets and the crowds, ignoring the churning in his gut. Three stops. He only had to go three stops. He could do this.

He pulled out his phone for a distraction, thinking he could challenge Tony’s cute little bot to hangman – Tony had said his language skills needed help – but Bruce had already replied. 

 

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 15:15_

_I’m just going to take it as a compliment you’re losing sleep over me, Jaunty says that’s a sign a boy likes you ;) you should sleep more though xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to Winter Cyborg] 15:15_

_Okay, text me later? xx_

 

Bucky grinned at the texts, and automatically began to reply – he _did_ like Bruce, he liked him a lot, all the conversing they’d done over the past five days just solidifying the crush he’d assumed was fruitless – and then wondered how on earth he was going to explain that he wasn’t home yet.

The car jolted into life, and Bucky clenched his phone hard, typing out a reply with a shaking hand.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:21_

_I definitely like u more than I like the tube xxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 15:22_

_I imagine that’s not hard though… remember to breath, Bucky. Xx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:24_

_u can still call me James. I don’t mind it when it’s u xx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 15:24_

_Well then, how many stops you got left James? xxx_

 

Bucky smiled, and glanced up – two out of three down.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:26_

_1 out of 3 left xxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 15:26_

_Hey, you’ve already got a silver medal for it! Xxx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 15:27_

_ur such a meatball :D xxxx_

 

+

 

“You okay?” Sam asked warily. Given that Bucky had come in, hung up his coat and set down his bag like a normal person, before proceeding to wedge himself between the armchair and the wall and bury his head in his knees, the question was both necessary and something of a moot point.

“I took the tube home.” Bucky muttered, feeling oddly pathetic that _that_ had rendered him feeling like he was over-exposed and on-edge. He waited for Sam to tell him to get a grip, but the words never came. He glanced up, to find that Sam was no longer sat on the couch. “Sam?”

“One sec!” Same called back – he was in the kitchen, Bucky thought, and while he was curious, he wasn’t quite ready to move again yet.

Sam came back with a cupcake, red velvet, iced and sprayed gold, with a number one made out of sprinkles. “What the fuck.” Bucky spoke before he quite thought the words through, but Sam would never take offence at Bucky.

“It’s a gold medal.” Sam said it like it was obvious, and Bucky startled them both by laughing – and laughing _hard_. “Dude?”

“Shit, sorry- thank you, Sam.” Bucky took the cupcake with both hands – hey, he’d stopped shaking – and grinned at it. Sam grinned back, clapping him on the shoulder, before wandering off back to his book. Once he was absorbed again, Bucky took his phone out and snapped a picture of it.

 

_[Picture: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:01_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:01_

_have u met sam? I feel like u should meet sam :D xxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:03_

_…is that a gold medal cupcake? Xxx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:03_

_yup. red velvet 2. apparently it -is- an achievement 2 take the tube home xxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:04_

_Ohhhh, I fucking love red velvet. Favourite cake, hands down. Xxx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:04_

_noted :D I can make a mean red velvet cake xxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:05_

_Marry me. Xxx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:05_

_how forward of you dr stark! I’m more of a third date girl, myself ;) xxx_

 

“What are you grinning at?” Sam asked, and Bucky looked up, startled – he was still sat on the floor, cupcake half eaten and smiling at his phone.

“I-“ Bucky started, and halfway through speaking changed his mind, opting for honesty. “I’m talking to Bruce.” Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

“And Bruce is?” he put his book down, and Bucky picked himself up to sit in the armchair.

“Tony’s brother. Cute scientist.” Bucky admitted, and Sam’s cautious smile turned into a shit-eating grin. “He’s- he’s amazing.” Bucky told him, and then paused as his phone buzzed. He considered, reluctantly, waiting to answer, but-

“Well?” Sam asked, nodding towards his phone, and Bucky looked back down to see what Bruce had said.

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:06_

_Three dates? I can do that. Saturday, perhaps? After your shift? Xxx_

 

“Holy _shit_.” Bucky swore, dropping his phone and then nearly lurching off the chair to get it again. “I- he- he asked me on a date.” Bucky whispered, staring at the screen. “He- he’s seen me and he’s _asking me on a date_.” Bucky looked up and Sam was laughing at him.

“Well answer him then!” Bucky began to type, and Sam added; “no self-sabotage! Just a straight up yes, Cap!”

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:08_

_if u truly mean that, then yes. definitely yes xxxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:08_

_Why wouldn’t I mean it? You’re a catch, James. Your shift ends at three, right? xxxx_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 16:09_

_yeah it does. sure u don’t wanna give me an hour to change? Xxxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 16:09_

_Not if you want me to form words… xxxx_

 

+

 

_[Text: MissAmerica to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:09_

_Check in, losers. We all still alive? I can account for Kate._

_[Text: MechanicalBirdie to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:10_

_Me and Cap are good, girls._

_[Text: AwwCoffeeNo to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:10_

_yo_

_[Text: MissAmerica to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:12_

_I miss you guys._

_[Text: MechanicalBirdie to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:13_

_We miss you too._

_[Text: AwwCoffeeNo to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:13_

_did we all sleep shit last night_

_[Text: VoiceOfReason to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:14_

_Don’t we all sleep shit every night?_

****

Bucky watched the conversation unfolding on the chat, knowing they could see that he was reading along, but he didn’t know how to participate. They checked in every Monday, whether they’d spoken during the week or not, and while it was nice… Long gone were the days they could sit around a table and laugh and drink, and play poker and scrabble and monopoly. Haunted eyes tended to ruin an atmosphere.

 

_[Text: AwwCoffeeNo to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:15_

_hear hear_

_[Text: AwwCoffeeNo to **Cereal** ] 21:15_

_movie night tomorrow ? im thinking stardust_

_[Text: AwwCoffeeNo to **Cereal** ] 21:15_

_or disney_

_[Text: AwwCoffeeNo to **Cereal** ] 21:15_

_or megamind_

_[Text: AwwCoffeeNo to **Cereal** ] 21:16_

_wait is that disney_

_[Text: AwwCoffeeNo to **Cereal** ] 21:16_

_idk dudes_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to **Cereal** ] 21:16 _

_I’m in_

Bucky hesitated a moment and then flicked back to the other group chat.

_[Text: WinterCyborg to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:16_

_I didn’t give Sam a black eye this time tho_

_[Text: MissAmerica to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:17_

_Hey, progress Cap! Nice one!_

_[Text: MechanicalBirdie to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:17 _

_Not for lack of trying, though… he took the tube home!_

_[Text: MechanicalBirdie to **Cereal** ] 21:18_

_What about The Princess and The Frog?_

_[Text: AwwCoffeeNo to **Cereal** ] 21:18_

_no way i cry when ray dies_

_[Text: StarSpangled to **Cereal** ] 21:19_

_He actually does. What about Men In Black? Not Disney, but… {alien-emoji}_

_[Text: MissAmerica to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:19_

_Ugh, I still hate trains… good on you Cap. We got a new alarm clock on Saturday. It ticks. We’ve not taken a hammer to it yet._

_[Text: MechanicalBirdie to **Shit Shot Squad** ] 21:20_

_Progress all round!_

_[Text: WinterCyborg to **Cereal** ] 21:21 _

_I love mib can we can we can we_

 

Sam shot him a grin when that one came through – for all the tube had set him on edge, he felt lighter than he had in a long time. The two group chats pinged one after the other, and for once, holding two separate conversations didn’t feel so overwhelming.

“Fuck off, Sam.” Bucky told him, shoving him off the couch with a laugh.

 

+

 

It was almost midnight as Bucky was climbing into bed – he had a shift and two classes tomorrow – and as he was checking the alarm on his phone, he saw the read notification he’d managed to leave Bruce on earlier and grimaced. Sure, he’d said he was going for a bit – but four hours later? Fuck.

 

_[Text: WinterCyborg to RadiationNation] 23:51_

_thank u, for earlier xxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 23:53_

_Anytime, James. Anytime. Xxx_

_[Text: RadiationNation to WinterCyborg] 23:53_

_Now get some sleep xxx_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me at my **[tumblr](http://thecitylightshow.tumblr.com/)**!! Everyone is welcome to just start chatting to me, so drop by! I'm nice I swear :D


End file.
